What do you think?
Rate this book
The Universe as Performance Art
156 pages, Paperback
Published October 1, 2024
14 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
December 9, 2024
full post here:
https://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/202...
The Universe As Performance Art is not at all my typical sort of read, but what I discovered is that this collection of short stories will jolt its readers out of their complacency while making them do some serious thinking about what they've just encountered. As described on the back-cover blurb by author Paul Cunningham, this book is "a disquieting, panoramic gallery exhibition obsessed with art's arranged marriage with Nature and the consequences of art itself," but to say that author Colby Smith's work is "disquieting" is an enormous understatement.
The majority of these stories center on art, integrating physical, mental and spiritual selves, science and the natural world as well as other areas of existence, all written in bold, vital language. Connected to that are the consequences of the choices that are made by the people who inhabit these tales, which are also explored here. What really struck me though in most cases was the intensity of emotion that seeps out via the author's characters, even in those stories I didn't particularly care for, which in actuality weren't all that many. I will say that if you depend on trigger warnings, well, this probably isn't the book for you.
In the blurb on the back of the book, Cunningham goes on to say that this book is "an indispensable contribution to the Neo-Decadent international art movement canon," and I have to admit that my familiarity with the movement is pretty much nil (although after reading this one my curiosity is getting the better of me). I found a brief explanation online by Fergus Nm in The Aither as part of a review of Neo-Decadence Evangelion (Zagava, 2023; ed. Justin Isis) where he describes this group as a "loose confederation of writers, poets, and artists with an axe to grind against the imagination-starved tedium of much of what passes for 'contemporary culture.' " Amen to that -- and here's to continuing to shake up the system.
There's more than enough to keep any reader of darker fiction on his or her toes here, and my many and hugely grateful thanks (along with an apology for taking forever) to the very good people at Eibonvale for my copy. I may not know the movement itself very well, but The Universe as Performance Art blew me right out of my comfort zone and made me want to read more from Mr. Colby Smith in the future. And that's what matters.
https://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/202...
The Universe As Performance Art is not at all my typical sort of read, but what I discovered is that this collection of short stories will jolt its readers out of their complacency while making them do some serious thinking about what they've just encountered. As described on the back-cover blurb by author Paul Cunningham, this book is "a disquieting, panoramic gallery exhibition obsessed with art's arranged marriage with Nature and the consequences of art itself," but to say that author Colby Smith's work is "disquieting" is an enormous understatement.
The majority of these stories center on art, integrating physical, mental and spiritual selves, science and the natural world as well as other areas of existence, all written in bold, vital language. Connected to that are the consequences of the choices that are made by the people who inhabit these tales, which are also explored here. What really struck me though in most cases was the intensity of emotion that seeps out via the author's characters, even in those stories I didn't particularly care for, which in actuality weren't all that many. I will say that if you depend on trigger warnings, well, this probably isn't the book for you.
In the blurb on the back of the book, Cunningham goes on to say that this book is "an indispensable contribution to the Neo-Decadent international art movement canon," and I have to admit that my familiarity with the movement is pretty much nil (although after reading this one my curiosity is getting the better of me). I found a brief explanation online by Fergus Nm in The Aither as part of a review of Neo-Decadence Evangelion (Zagava, 2023; ed. Justin Isis) where he describes this group as a "loose confederation of writers, poets, and artists with an axe to grind against the imagination-starved tedium of much of what passes for 'contemporary culture.' " Amen to that -- and here's to continuing to shake up the system.
There's more than enough to keep any reader of darker fiction on his or her toes here, and my many and hugely grateful thanks (along with an apology for taking forever) to the very good people at Eibonvale for my copy. I may not know the movement itself very well, but The Universe as Performance Art blew me right out of my comfort zone and made me want to read more from Mr. Colby Smith in the future. And that's what matters.
October 27, 2024
A collection of eccentric tales. The author has also released a novella and a nonfiction book. With this publication, he gathers a few pieces previously published in Neo-Decadent Anthologies, along with 14 previously unpublished stories. I think the best of the lot is "Hellenic Dropout." This is probably not the best place to start if you are new to Neo-Decadent writing - just read the anthologies first. The author has a way with words which is immediately recognizable. A very harsh outlook on the world. I'm sensing a disdain for modernity here.
Though the collection was quite enjoyable, I may need to revisit some of the tales. On occasion it was difficult to determine what the author was going for in a given scene. The tones were not uniform, as I would expect from a book purporting to belong to the relatively young genre of Neo-Decadence, which, as it evolves, tends to resist definition. Every scene here was surprising and had a discernible punk attitude in my opinion. None of the characters were likable, but I do not require literary characters to be likable. I found some of them relatable. The majority of them were young. Two stories toward the end: "Fluora" and "Poets Die," employed a quieter color palette and took place within healthcare institutions. In this way they reminded me of the impressionistic books of Luke Delin.
You get a lot of variety in this collection.
"Zhuangzi in Chrysalis" was more of a formal experiment than a story. A 'what if' scenario. While the whole 'butterfly dreaming it was human' concept has been overused in literature, the author rechristens the concept with a unique perspective.
"Cooking Australia" was very good. Catering to Neo-Decadent absurdities. Roping in abstruse vocab and elaborate visuals. Meshing a quirky setting with poetic verve.
"The First Masterpiece of the Marquis de Sade," was a brutally interesting story. While I believe it is a stretch to call anything written by de Sade a masterpiece, this story posits the development of such a beastly individual as an aesthetic masterpiece of Nature, who, through the cultivation of animalistic desires, was able to refine his uber-decadent art to an unapproachable level. In the end though, it revels in a pre-teen's discovery of sexuality, which clearly bleeds into other tales in this collection.
Similarly, "Baron Munchausen's Suicide," is a bitter, cruel take on the goofy historical character's quixotic madness. Spoofing and groping toward some philosophical catharsis, the story only succeeds in rendering entertaining the morbid behavior of a mentally ill aristocrat. It's funny in an old-fashioned way, like the film Freaks, I suppose.
"Pheromone Literature," was magnificent. An imaginative futuristic tale of metamorphosed language. An examination of alien consciousness. A castigation of human pride amid the bleak and unforgiving sophistication of the universe.
"The Universe as Performance Art," takes the form of a list, almost like a 2nd Table of Contents. It was beyond me to discern a story here. But it contained poetic rigor. It resembled certain examples of performance art I've seen, which often strive to torture meaning out of abstract movement and ultimately pointless actions. But it could be that things like interpretive dance and free association word games are too out-there for my aesthetic antennae to perceive.
"Amaterasu Overthrown" and "Somnii Draconis," were impressive. The latter revisits a theme from his book The Ironic Skeletons of extracting fossilized specimens and drawing deep conclusions about Time's unsubtle indifference to humanity's struggle. Art is a sort of pity party humanity throws itself every hour of every day if you ask me. "Amaterasu" contemplates a sci-fi scenario mixing far-future tech with mythological figures. It would be cool to see this world expanded into a full-length novel.
"The Game Show Expats," was a memorable story about a family experiencing Florida. It is unexplainably gruesome. The descriptions are beautifully delineated but again, the characters' behavior defy reason.
"A Fable of Salmon," is another tale of awakening sexuality. It is more down-to-earth than the other works here, but ends in a Lovecraftian explosion of unjustified cinematic grotesquerie. I was reminded of Bizarro-fiction. The long section of dialogue was puerile and unnecessary, but I remember the feeling of going to a party as a high school student with ridiculous expectations and moving through the stages of boredom and then ultimate terror at the sight of unsupervised teens, who instantly annihilated the interiorized concepts of morality I had built up over one and a half decades.
Also included are "The Revelation," "Romulus Craved His Mother's Milk," "The Bombed Zoo," and "Aphorisms in Concrete."
I was reminded of David Rix by the latter. It is a mature story about a strained relationship, about defining oneself by art and accomplishment. Rix and other Neo-Decadent purveyors often frame their works by circling the topic of artistic expression. The characters seem to be outsiders grasping at straws of meaning through profound pronouncements, often concocting ambitious plans that are rarely actualized. There is always the temptation to succumb to producing commercial art, and every self-respecting artist must either prostitute themselves in some way or be dashed against the granite cliffs of public obscurity.
The author lists or thanks dozens of Neo-Decadent adjacent authors in his acknowledgments page. If you have read this far you are probably interested in the amorphous genre I've struggled to describe in this review. Like Surrealism or Cubism, Neo-Decadent art distorts reality, forces the reader to reevaluate the perceptions of our jaded nervous systems, seeking to stimulate the overstimulated. By marrying the profane and the profound, these artists pave an uncommon path through the decaying underbelly of contemporary literature.
Though the collection was quite enjoyable, I may need to revisit some of the tales. On occasion it was difficult to determine what the author was going for in a given scene. The tones were not uniform, as I would expect from a book purporting to belong to the relatively young genre of Neo-Decadence, which, as it evolves, tends to resist definition. Every scene here was surprising and had a discernible punk attitude in my opinion. None of the characters were likable, but I do not require literary characters to be likable. I found some of them relatable. The majority of them were young. Two stories toward the end: "Fluora" and "Poets Die," employed a quieter color palette and took place within healthcare institutions. In this way they reminded me of the impressionistic books of Luke Delin.
You get a lot of variety in this collection.
"Zhuangzi in Chrysalis" was more of a formal experiment than a story. A 'what if' scenario. While the whole 'butterfly dreaming it was human' concept has been overused in literature, the author rechristens the concept with a unique perspective.
"Cooking Australia" was very good. Catering to Neo-Decadent absurdities. Roping in abstruse vocab and elaborate visuals. Meshing a quirky setting with poetic verve.
"The First Masterpiece of the Marquis de Sade," was a brutally interesting story. While I believe it is a stretch to call anything written by de Sade a masterpiece, this story posits the development of such a beastly individual as an aesthetic masterpiece of Nature, who, through the cultivation of animalistic desires, was able to refine his uber-decadent art to an unapproachable level. In the end though, it revels in a pre-teen's discovery of sexuality, which clearly bleeds into other tales in this collection.
Similarly, "Baron Munchausen's Suicide," is a bitter, cruel take on the goofy historical character's quixotic madness. Spoofing and groping toward some philosophical catharsis, the story only succeeds in rendering entertaining the morbid behavior of a mentally ill aristocrat. It's funny in an old-fashioned way, like the film Freaks, I suppose.
"Pheromone Literature," was magnificent. An imaginative futuristic tale of metamorphosed language. An examination of alien consciousness. A castigation of human pride amid the bleak and unforgiving sophistication of the universe.
"The Universe as Performance Art," takes the form of a list, almost like a 2nd Table of Contents. It was beyond me to discern a story here. But it contained poetic rigor. It resembled certain examples of performance art I've seen, which often strive to torture meaning out of abstract movement and ultimately pointless actions. But it could be that things like interpretive dance and free association word games are too out-there for my aesthetic antennae to perceive.
"Amaterasu Overthrown" and "Somnii Draconis," were impressive. The latter revisits a theme from his book The Ironic Skeletons of extracting fossilized specimens and drawing deep conclusions about Time's unsubtle indifference to humanity's struggle. Art is a sort of pity party humanity throws itself every hour of every day if you ask me. "Amaterasu" contemplates a sci-fi scenario mixing far-future tech with mythological figures. It would be cool to see this world expanded into a full-length novel.
"The Game Show Expats," was a memorable story about a family experiencing Florida. It is unexplainably gruesome. The descriptions are beautifully delineated but again, the characters' behavior defy reason.
"A Fable of Salmon," is another tale of awakening sexuality. It is more down-to-earth than the other works here, but ends in a Lovecraftian explosion of unjustified cinematic grotesquerie. I was reminded of Bizarro-fiction. The long section of dialogue was puerile and unnecessary, but I remember the feeling of going to a party as a high school student with ridiculous expectations and moving through the stages of boredom and then ultimate terror at the sight of unsupervised teens, who instantly annihilated the interiorized concepts of morality I had built up over one and a half decades.
Also included are "The Revelation," "Romulus Craved His Mother's Milk," "The Bombed Zoo," and "Aphorisms in Concrete."
I was reminded of David Rix by the latter. It is a mature story about a strained relationship, about defining oneself by art and accomplishment. Rix and other Neo-Decadent purveyors often frame their works by circling the topic of artistic expression. The characters seem to be outsiders grasping at straws of meaning through profound pronouncements, often concocting ambitious plans that are rarely actualized. There is always the temptation to succumb to producing commercial art, and every self-respecting artist must either prostitute themselves in some way or be dashed against the granite cliffs of public obscurity.
The author lists or thanks dozens of Neo-Decadent adjacent authors in his acknowledgments page. If you have read this far you are probably interested in the amorphous genre I've struggled to describe in this review. Like Surrealism or Cubism, Neo-Decadent art distorts reality, forces the reader to reevaluate the perceptions of our jaded nervous systems, seeking to stimulate the overstimulated. By marrying the profane and the profound, these artists pave an uncommon path through the decaying underbelly of contemporary literature.
November 10, 2024
THE UNIVERSE AS PERFORMANCE ART is the debut collection of short stories by Colby Smith, the writer of THE IRONIC SKELETONS, and posits itself as "an indispensable contribution to the Neo-Decadent international art movement canon" (to quote from the publisher's description of the book in question).
The stories assembled here, though broadly falling (as one might expect) under the stylistic umbrella of Neo-Decadence, also move into some further ranges of literary genres. "A Fable of Salmon" certainly has some Body Horror elements, depicting an orgy that perhaps only a David Cronenberg might find arousing (probably not the author's intended comparison, but when one makes references to "the new flesh," one must expect such a Pavlovian response). Certainly there are some horror aspects as well in "Romulus Craved His Mother's Milk" (a story that didn't entirely work for me, but which ultimately landed thanks to a killer final sentence; on a similar note, see also the collection's final story, "Poets Die"). "The Revelation," one of the better shorter pieces, reads like a kaiju/tokusatsu disaster narrative, only one in which the monsters have been replaced by malevolent weather systems and celestial bodies (all identified with such lofty names as "the Great Smog," "the Thirteenth Sun," and so forth). There are also some science fiction efforts, like "Pheromone Literature" and "Amaterasu Overthrown" (the latter being the better of the two, in my opinion). There are even some humorous pieces, like the very funny "Baron Munchausen's Suicide."
A few of the stories in this collection have previously appeared in other publications, mainly Neo-Decadent anthologies: the best of this lot would be "Hellenic Dropout," which made its debut in 2022's NEO-DECADENCE EVANGELION. Set in Bucharest (that city haunted by the specter of Vlad Tepes, Communism, and the Ceaușescu regime), it revolves around a cast of tattooed freaks, suicidal porn stars, drug dealers, pretentious art posers and pimps, a group of people so decadent and dissolute that, had this story been set a few decades earlier, one could picture Lou Reed making a concept album about it in the 1970s. I was lucky enough to read another of the book's stories, "Aphorisms in Concrete," a number of years ago, back when it was in a more embryonic state: this extended final version is far superior, queer art that doesn't suck.
I think, however, that my favorite story in this collection would be "The Bombed Zoo," which starts off as a mediation on the debt that musical instruments, particularly pianos, owe to slain elephants, before becoming something else entirely, a holocaust of blood and destruction with some fine apocalyptic imagery. I'm not even entirely sure what this story was trying to be, but it's so interestingly written, that I didn't care.
One thing that also interested me about the writing style was the anthropomorphized behavior being performed by nonhuman agents. Hence why we have a blanket that "...looked like the crumpled body of a tuberculosis victim," "water that performs cunnilingus on the continent," "palm trees that swooned in the breeze like a heart," concrete becoming "hot as if it were deeply aroused," and so on.
Potential alternate title for the collection, extracted from the story "Somnii Draconis": FAILED SKETCHES IN THE INFINITE TAPESTRY OF CREATION.
The stories assembled here, though broadly falling (as one might expect) under the stylistic umbrella of Neo-Decadence, also move into some further ranges of literary genres. "A Fable of Salmon" certainly has some Body Horror elements, depicting an orgy that perhaps only a David Cronenberg might find arousing (probably not the author's intended comparison, but when one makes references to "the new flesh," one must expect such a Pavlovian response). Certainly there are some horror aspects as well in "Romulus Craved His Mother's Milk" (a story that didn't entirely work for me, but which ultimately landed thanks to a killer final sentence; on a similar note, see also the collection's final story, "Poets Die"). "The Revelation," one of the better shorter pieces, reads like a kaiju/tokusatsu disaster narrative, only one in which the monsters have been replaced by malevolent weather systems and celestial bodies (all identified with such lofty names as "the Great Smog," "the Thirteenth Sun," and so forth). There are also some science fiction efforts, like "Pheromone Literature" and "Amaterasu Overthrown" (the latter being the better of the two, in my opinion). There are even some humorous pieces, like the very funny "Baron Munchausen's Suicide."
A few of the stories in this collection have previously appeared in other publications, mainly Neo-Decadent anthologies: the best of this lot would be "Hellenic Dropout," which made its debut in 2022's NEO-DECADENCE EVANGELION. Set in Bucharest (that city haunted by the specter of Vlad Tepes, Communism, and the Ceaușescu regime), it revolves around a cast of tattooed freaks, suicidal porn stars, drug dealers, pretentious art posers and pimps, a group of people so decadent and dissolute that, had this story been set a few decades earlier, one could picture Lou Reed making a concept album about it in the 1970s. I was lucky enough to read another of the book's stories, "Aphorisms in Concrete," a number of years ago, back when it was in a more embryonic state: this extended final version is far superior, queer art that doesn't suck.
I think, however, that my favorite story in this collection would be "The Bombed Zoo," which starts off as a mediation on the debt that musical instruments, particularly pianos, owe to slain elephants, before becoming something else entirely, a holocaust of blood and destruction with some fine apocalyptic imagery. I'm not even entirely sure what this story was trying to be, but it's so interestingly written, that I didn't care.
One thing that also interested me about the writing style was the anthropomorphized behavior being performed by nonhuman agents. Hence why we have a blanket that "...looked like the crumpled body of a tuberculosis victim," "water that performs cunnilingus on the continent," "palm trees that swooned in the breeze like a heart," concrete becoming "hot as if it were deeply aroused," and so on.
Potential alternate title for the collection, extracted from the story "Somnii Draconis": FAILED SKETCHES IN THE INFINITE TAPESTRY OF CREATION.
December 4, 2024
THE UNIVERSE AS PERFORMANCE ART is the closest we'll get to a post-hardcore Yukio Mishima: the blinding fury of the human heart on the outside, the technicolor efervescence of a peacock (soon to become a phoenix) on the inside.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews